


And Silver On Our Tongues

by sequence_fairy



Series: In An Isolated System [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Rukia-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: And when we first came here/We were cold and we were clear/With no colors on our skin/‘Till you let the spectrum in/Say my name





	And Silver On Our Tongues

**Author's Note:**

> Rukia-centric. Not!Angst. Ruminations on sword spirits and how to awaken one’s _shikai_.

Rukia dreams in colour. 

She always has, as long as she can remember. 

She dreams in bright, vivid swathes of red and green and gold and purple and every other colour under the sun. Her dreams are big and bright and bold – filling her mind’s eye with fantastic things and leaving her breathless with the beauty of what her subconscious can come up with during her sleeping hours. 

Sitting  _jinzen_  is different.

Rukia had thought, when she’d first chosen her blade, that her soulscape would be the same as her dreams – vivid, colourful and  _alive_. Instead, her soulscape is the heavy stillness of a snow-laden forest, and the distant shimmer of glaciers on the slopes of faraway mountains. It is the ebony sky, pricked with stars, where the sun never rises and only the moon casts a shadow. It is washed in shades of grey and white and black and the only hint of colour is the deep violet shadows in the clefts and crags of the mountains and beneath the trees. 

The first time she arrives, it’s entirely by accident, and Rukia is thrown by the colourless landscape that greets her. It is so cold that her breath fogs and the north wind bites where it hits exposed skin. Sode no Shirayuki does not appear that time, nor does she appear the next three times Rukia falls into her own soulscape, though there is a whisper of a voice in the back of her mind that grows louder each time. 

The fourth time, Rukia arrives with the purpose of releasing her  _shikai_ , and gives voice to the name that has been burning on her tongue for weeks. The  _zanpakuto_  spirit materializes in a flurry of snowflakes and looks down at Rukia, pale eyes considering and thoughtful. 

“Sode no Shirayuki,” Rukia repeats, and the sword spirit smiles. 

“Rukia Kuchiki, I am glad to meet you.” They face each other silently for a long moment before Shirayuki tosses her head, long white hair fanning out behind her. “Why have you come?” 

“To learn,” Rukia says, and Shirayuki laughs. Before Rukia can be offended, Shirayuki is advancing on her, blade drawn. 

“To learn, you must win.” The sword spirit smiles again, but this time it is with cold hunger and Rukia shivers. The air temperature drops and Shirayuki’s blade glows white. 

There’s a beat. Then – 

Shirayuki’s blade sings as it she swings it, and Rukia jumps back, barely escaping Shirayuki’s reach. The zanpakuto spirit’s lips are still curved in that bloodless grin. The wind gusts around them, kicking the fine snow into the air, leaving it sparkling in the moonlight. Shirayuki steps forward again. “You cannot win if you do not fight, Rukia Kuchiki,” she says. Rukia swallows, and takes another step back. 

For the first time in a long time, Rukia is _afraid._  

“I don’t want to fight,” Rukia protests, “I just want to learn.” 

“Did you think I would just  _give_  you my power?” 

“I suppose not,” Rukia admits, and Shirayuki waits, blade poised. 

The silence hangs between them, broken only by the far away cry of a bird. 

“Why have you come, Rukia Kuchiki?” Shirayuki asks again, and Rukia grips the hilt of her sword, and feels, for the first time, the tremor of power in her blood as she does so. 

“I’ve come to fight,” Rukia answers, and draws her own blade, which seems paltry and barely serviceable against the brilliant white of Shirayuki’s, but she manages to block the next thrust and parries Shirayuki back. Rukia presses her advantage, and Shirayuki retreats. They break apart and Rukia lets  _shunpo_  carry her far enough away to regroup, breathing hard. 

Shirayuki waits, and doesn’t move again until Rukia raises her blade to signal she is ready for the next scuffle. Their blades clash; drawing sparks. They kick up snow as they whirl around each other and the air fills with the sound of steel on steel and a fine mist of ice. 

Rukia spins under Shirayuki’s arm, to come in close, thrusting forward as she does. Shirayuki dodges, but only just fast enough and Rukia’s blade takes a lock of her hair instead of drawing blood. Shirayuki darts out of reach, but Rukia follows, pressing her advantage. 

There’s an icy fire in her blood; Rukia can feel it bubbling up through her chest, into her lungs and out through her limbs. She can feel it in the way her grip on the hilt of her blade is more confident, the way she starts to feel more and more fluid as she parries and thrusts and blocks, the way she is more and more on the offensive and Shirayuki is working harder and harder to fend her off. She can feel the tendril of power that bleeds into her skin from the blade in her hands, and she can feel it growing as she pushes Shirayuki further and further back in the clearing, until the sword spirit is fighting with her back to a veritable wall of fir trees. 

Shirayuki drops her guard for a moment and Rukia seizes the advantage, pulling her thrust at the last second, so the point of her blade rests on the hollow of Shirayuki’s collar bones. They are so close, Rukia can feel the cold coming off Shirayuki’s skin. 

“Well,” Shirayuki says, “have you bested me then, Rukia?” 

Rukia is taken aback. “What do you mean?” 

“Do think you deserve my power now? You have yet to disarm me, and you did not strike the killing blow.” 

“You think I would kill you?” Rukia asks, confused. “I don’t understand.” 

“And why should you?” Shirayuki asks, raising a hand to knock Rukia’s blade away from her throat. 

“I can’t kill you!” Rukia protests, “you’re a part of me! You are my sword, you are a part of my  _soul_  - killing you would be like, like killing myself! I don’t want to win, I want to  _learn_ , I want to be _partners_.” 

“You are weak, and spineless, and undeserving of releasing even a fraction of my true power if you cannot conceive of killing your enemies.” 

“I can kill my enemies just fine,” Rukia retorts, and Shirayuki snorts, derision evident in her face. 

“You, who have never killed - you think you can, you think you will, and yet, you do not pretend to try.” Shirayuki ducks, and spins, and Rukia barely gets her blade up in time. The impact vibrates up her arm into her shoulder, making her grit her teeth. 

Shirayuki leans forward, and Rukia presses up, straining against her sword spirit’s strength, feeling the scrape of steel on steel as their blades lock together, hilt to hilt. 

For a moment, the only sound is their breathing. 

Then, Rukia  _heaves_  against Shirayuki’s strength, a grunt escaping her clenched teeth as she does. Shirayuki falters, and steps back, but doesn’t let up on the downward pressure on Rukia’s blade. Rukia pushes again, this time with a yell. 

Icy white light explodes from Rukia’s skin, blinding her briefly, and sending out a shockwave that knocks Shirayuki back and sends her blade flying. While Rukia blinks to try and make the afterimage dissipate, Shirayuki gets back to her feet. Rukia’s blade, once merely steel, has now changed to the brilliant white of Shirayuki’s and from the hilt streams a length of white ribbon. 

The power in Rukia’s blood fizzes and sparks, and then settles into icy fire in her core. Rukia stares down at her sword. “Is this – ?” 

Rukia takes a tentative swing of her newly awakened blade, listening to the whistle of air around its keen edge. It is featherlight, and, Rukia discovers, by balancing it by the tang on her finger, perfectly balanced. “It’s beautiful,” Rukia says, a hush of awe in her voice and she looks up at Shirayuki, whose smile has turned fond. 

Shirayuki dusts snow off her shoulders. “Congratulations, Rukia Kuchiki, you have awoken your  _shikai_.”


End file.
